

Sunday, March 13, 2005

What I Learned

I didn't plan on going out to a bar tonight, but given that my home was, at the time, occupied by small children, the choice became immediately clear. So it was out to Bar None with the crew.

You know, lots of people spend money on therapists to learn things about themselves. Me? I head out to a bar and in one single night, three deep personal truths are revealed unto me much like your mom was last night! (Sorry, Chan. I won't steal any more bits.)

Anyway, here are three interesting personal truths I learned tonight.

1. I suck at shuffleboard. This fact was made blindingly clear to me after a stunning 27-1 loss, but it's not entirely unexpected. I mean, there's got to be something to balance the scales against my nigh-Godlike bowling prowess besides a humbling weakness to Waffle House food.

2. I cannot voice a dissenting opinion about, say, RoboCop without being immediately chastised by a few of my drunken pals, who will insist that not only do I not understand it, but I am "a pussy," or alternately, "a faggot." Well let me make this abundantly clear: I had absolutely no trouble understanding the multifaceted layers and intricacies of the fine Peter Weller opus that was RoboCop. Know why? Because it's fucking RoboCop.

Yes, the eighties were marked by massive amounts of corporate and personal greed that led to the dehumanization of the work force in favor of cold, ruthless efficiency; and the reduction of actual information into sound bytes that personified a desensitized view of a violent, abysmal world. I get it. I understand what it means when Miguel Ferrar snorts cocaine off a hooker's ass. It's not fucking rocket science. And here's another newsflash for you, bucko: it's absolutely fine if I didn't think it was "awesome." Ergo, fuck RoboCop.

The corrollary to this revelation about myself was that I will also, when annoyed, threaten to punch the next person who says the word "RoboCop" right in the Goddamn face.

Moving on.

3. This isn't necessarily about me, per se, but it's a profound truth nonetheless, and it is this: The absolute best way to pick up women is to rent an orphan, then take him to church. Sure, you may get in a hassle with child services or the local clergy, but the ladies? They cannot resist.


Blogger autryman said...

1. You can't play shuffleboard. Wear that shit like a badge of honor.
2. It's been so damned long since I saw that B-rated flick that I can't argue either way. However, I think what happen is just another example of why talking to drunk people while your sober can sometimes suck.
3. If you think MG3's scheme was farout, ask Scott about speed dating. It's much more disturbing.

3/14/2005 8:55 PM

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